


To tempt near the things that otherwise must perish

by lbmisscharlie



Series: Take bountifully and smile and go away [2]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Casual Sex, F/F, Spies & Secret Agents, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:52:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7154363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lbmisscharlie/pseuds/lbmisscharlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Peggy lets up, stands. She grapples for the lamp in the dark, and when it’s turned on, Dottie’s still on the floor, sprawl-legged and up on her elbows, lipsticked mouth cocked. The last time had started like that, on the floor; Peggy’s knees were bruised for weeks.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	To tempt near the things that otherwise must perish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kathryne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathryne/gifts).



Peggy curls her fingertips into fists inside of her mittens. It’s the kind of cold out that would have Dum Dum waxing rhapsodic about Volgograd, the kind of cold that gets down to your bones. The kind of cold that makes Peggy wonder why she hasn’t signed up for desk duty yet. 

Movement inside the building draws her attention. She’s already unlocked the window, so her entry is nearly silent and they don’t see her coming. As she retrieves the device, a scientist and two armed guards unconscious on the floor, and pulls herself back out the window, she remembers why she hasn’t quite given up on field work yet.

The building next to her hotel has not yet been rebuilt, its blackened, skeletal frame one of innumerable reminders of what Kiev lost in the war. The hotel is comfortable, though, generally clean, and, most importantly, kept by staff indifferent to the comings and goings of their anonymous guests. It’s a small enough job that she’s on her own, with the extraction team coming tomorrow, and after securing the device, she settles in to a short night’s sleep.

She hasn’t quite drifted off yet, though, when the door opens. Whoever it is has done an admirable job: the lights in the hallway out, the lock jiggered silently. It’s only the tiniest whiff of air that sends her on alert. She keeps her breathing even and doesn’t reach for her gun, not at first. Still, silent. The person steps closer and she scissor-kicks out, launching from the bed and dragging her gun from beneath the pillow, impacting against the intruder’s body

“Gosh, Pegs, if you wanted me between your legs all you had to do was ask.”

“Dottie?” She doesn’t smell the same, but then, Dottie’s a chameleon. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Underneath her, Dottie shifts. Fur trim brushes against Peggy’s hands, its tips cold. She hasn’t been inside long. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Peggy wants to reach for the light, but doesn’t dare move off of Dottie for a second. But then, sometimes with Dottie it’s easier if you can’t see her face, can’t get distracted by the emotions she puts onto it.

“Just dropping by for a chat, are you?”

Dottie hums. Peggy feels it in her thighs. “Just like old times,” she says, and something in Peggy’s gut drops, clenches. 

They’d last seen each other in Prague, three years ago. Prague had been – well. Dottie’s voice drops lower. “Thought we might – catch up,” she says, and flexes her hands where they’re trapped between Peggy’s legs. The movement sends shocks upwards, to Peggy’s cunt. 

“I assume you’re here for the device,” she says, keeping her voice cold. She can feel the movement of Dottie’s body as she attempts to shrug.

“Easier to get it from you than to go to _all that work_ of breaking into the laboratory.” 

“You think I’d just hand it over to you. For a – for a fuck?”

Dottie’s mouth smacks, wetly; Peggy’s arms tremble. “I wouldn’t dream of it. The fuck’s a bonus.”

Peggy lets up, stands. She grapples for the lamp in the dark, and when it’s turned on, Dottie’s still on the floor, sprawl-legged and up on her elbows, lipsticked mouth cocked. The last time had started like that, on the floor; Peggy’s knees were bruised for weeks. 

“There is a bed this time,” she says, perching on the edge of the mattress. Dottie doesn’t answer, just smiles lazily and rolls to her knees. Crawling closer to Peggy, she pushes Peggy’s thighs open – wider, wider – and presses her thumbs to the inner creases, next to her cunt. Peggy holds herself still, watches, doesn’t let her mind dwell on the heat in her cunt.

Dottie’s slow, methodical; not one to telegraph her moves before they happen. When she looks up at Peggy, a soft flutter of her lashes, she purses her mouth demurely. Only the meager cast of the too-dim lamp breaks the illusion, throwing monstrous shadows over the pretty lines of her face. “Can we get on with it?” Peggy says, an illusion of the upper hand.

Dottie squeeze Peggy’s inner thighs, heels of her palms to the soft flesh. Peggy’s wearing long johns – bloody cold in Kiev, even inside – but Dottie doesn’t seem to mind. Then again, in Prague Peggy had been wearing a hazmat suit. 

Pressing harder, Dottie leans in; Peggy can feel her breath through the fabric. She finds herself spreading her legs more, hips starting to burn. Her hands grip the edge of the mattress. Lowering her head, Dottie exhales – hot, wet – over Peggy’s cunt. Stifling a groan, Peggy grabs Dottie’s hair, tugs her head back. To Dottie’s questioning eyebrow, Peggy says nothing, just shoves the waistbands of her long johns and knickers down and kicks them off, the spreads her legs again.

She’s about to pull Dottie closer when, with a sly, pleased grin, Dottie slides her hands up Peggy’s, once more nestled in the creases of her thighs, and drops her head.

Her mouth on Peggy’s cunt is hot – hotter than any other goddamned thing in godforsaken Ukraine – and she is, it seems, not inclined to tease. Peggy grips her hair, holds her tight in place, rolls her hips up as Dottie licks. The fur of her collar tickles Peggy’s thighs. It doesn’t take long until she’s crashing over, gut tightening, calves trembling; she’s been on this path since she pinned Dottie to the floor.

Or earlier: since Prague; since L.A. and Dottie tied to a chair; since New York and Dottie’s lethal mouth on hers. When Dottie leaves, Peggy will say it won’t happen again; she’ll be lying. 

For now, she shoves Dottie’s coat to the floor, pulls her close, and bites hard at the join of her shoulder. Wouldn’t do to have Dottie walking away unmarked.

In the morning, the device is still there, a note stuck in the top handle. 

_Just wanted to take a looksee._

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from H.D.'s "Chance Meeting":
> 
> ...  
> desire crept to your knees,  
> you took it not to warm yourself  
> but to tempt near  
> the things that otherwise must perish  
> in the wind  
> and fire...


End file.
